OC Story
by WhoLockedGirl11
Summary: I know, horrible title! (if you think of one, tell me in a review :)) Just an intro to a possible Sherlock story. Will continue if I you want me to, just review if I should :) Enjoy!


I checked my watch once more and groaned. I am an organized and orderly woman, i'm never supposed to be late. "Excuse me," i called over my shoulder repeatedly as my mocha latte nearly spilled on several people. My two-inch brown boots were already killing me but i hurried on, almost tripping on a crack in the sidewalk.

I could feel my iphone buzzing in my faded blue cardigan and i hastily tried to yank it out. Bad idea. The phone went sailing and i froze. It landed (crashed would be a better description) on the pavement of the main street of London, right where a cabbie ran over it. I winced and mourned my phone for about 10 seconds. Why today? Why to me? I sighed and started running across the street.

Okay, fine. I wasn't an orderly and organized woman, more of a klutz. I slowed and turned to a bookstore window that just happened to be next to me and sighed again. A klutz with dull brown hair pulled back into a bun and large blue-green eyes the color of a murky, still river, waiting for some excitment. A clumsy woman with a flat-chest, a pale complexion, and clothes about two sizes too big. I saw the "woman" in the window strike a determined look. My phone may be dead but i still had an interview to get to. I hurried down the sidewalk, ignoring the stares, and turned the corner. Only to find myself bumping into a man's chest.

"Sorry!"

"Sorry!"

I looked up and stared. The man was short, no mistake about that, but a kind of adorable shortness only a blonde could pull off. He had dark grey eyes that crinkled at the end whenever he was concerned, like now. I noticed my hair had come undone and had fallen down in waves past my shoulders. I also noticed that i'd been staring and looked down, a warmth spreading across my face.

"Are you alright, do you need help?" he looked so worried and i wondered how he could care so much for someone he'd barely met. Must be manners. He was carrying two bags of what seemed to be groceries.

"Umm...you looked like you were in a hurry, you need to be somewhere?"

"Oh!" I'd almost forgotten. I face-palmed. Or at least that's what i wanted to do but i couldn't in front of Blonde-Short Guy.

"Yeah, i was going to...this interview" i shook my head. How could i forget something so important? Oh right, there was a blonde, good-looking man in front of me.

"And...I think you...might've dropped...something." He pointed with a free finger at a chocolate, brown puddle a few feet beside us. This time i did face-palm. I felt like pulling on my hair and shouting at the sky in frustration. I felt eyes on me and looked up at Blonde-Short Guy. I waved my hand in an "it's okay" kind of way. He nodded and we stood there awkwardly. I caught sight of my watch and sighed. He looked up and sort of twisted his head in confusion. I rolled my eyes and explained.

"I don't think I'm gonna go though. I'm late, not even look presentable -" i motioned to my hair "- and i still needed a ride into town. And the interview started...7 minutes ago. What else could go wrong, right?" I asked him with a chuckle which turned into a frown when i heard thunder. He cleared his throat and i thought i saw him smile. I narrowed my eyes and decided to tease this random guy i'd barely met, at least just a little.

"Are you laughing, random stranger?" i asked hands on my hips. He looked up, wide-eyed. I resisted the urge to giggle.

"What? No, no I'm not it's just umm..." he looked away and i couldn't help it. I laughed loudly, so unlike a girl. I stopped abruptly and peeked at him. He was smiling. Then the rain started catching me by surprise. I felt my jaw drop open in shock as the rain pelted me. Blonde Guy looked about ready to take off his jacket for me but he was carrying his groceries. I saw him hesitate before shaking his head (most likely having a war inside his head whether to save this weird girl he'd just met). He shouted at me over the rain.

"Come on, my flat's just around the corner!" he ran and i followed. He'd be checking over his shoulder every few seconds to see if i was still following him. We got to a store that had a "Closed" sign and ducked under the tiny roof used to make shade around it. Blonde Guy turned to me.

"You okay?" I nodded and rubbed my hands together, trying to maintain any source of heat possible. The rain was freezing! We panted and he pointed at a dark door a few feet next to where we were.

"That's the door to my -" i didn't let him finish and yanked on his arm.

"Then what are we waiting for!" i called over my shoulder and laughed. He grinned but i could see his eyes crinkle just a bit. We opened the door and i saw a flight of stairs. Blonde-Guy beckoned with a nod of his head and together we took the stairs two at a time. We reached another door and the moments it took for him to unlock the door i wondered what he was worried about, besides our current situation of course.

He opened the door and we toppled in, closing the door behind us. My savior let go of his groceries and held out a hand. I heard footsteps as i accepted his help.

Suddenly a tall man came into view. He had on only a pair of black pants and was drying his wet curly, black hair with a white towel held by his left hand. He froze at the sight of me but showed no alarm. Water streamed down his (naked!) torso and i tried not to stare. Who the heck was Beautiful Cheekbones Dude? I looked between both men and rubbed my neck. Well this was awkward...

"John, i thought we agreed that all your girlfriends not come into our flat after the -" Beautiful Cheekbones Dude got cut-off by Blonde guy or John, as that's his real name.

"Yeah well she's not my girlfriend. And i thought we also agreed that we wouldn't speak about that particular incident ever again," he said, clearing his throat. Cheekbone Dude pondered for a moment and shook his head slightly.

"No we didn't agree with that." John sighed and grabbed the grocery bags beside me.

"You can make yourself at home until the rain stops," he told me over his shoulder walking to the kitchen. Cheekbones Dude looked me over, not in a checking-me-out kind of way more like sizing me up, and i felt momentarily self-conscious.

"Hmmm...dull," he said with a bored tone. I rolled my eyes at the insult and walked over to John. Towels were on the table and i grabbed one after an approving glance from John.

"So are you guys...you know, together?" i asked squeezing the water out of my hair at the sink. He spun around, towel around his shoulders whipping like a cape. "No, course not. Why do`` you ask?" Looks like i struck a nerve. I looked at him pleadingly. "No, i didn't assume it's just...since you're both...you know..." i trailed off and busied myself by fiddling with some strange beaker filled with who-knows-what that just happened to be on the counter. He stopped what he was doing and turned to me.

"We're what?" he asked defensively. I answered without turning around.

"Well...good-looking..." i whispered.

"What?" oh good thing he hadn't heard, at least i think he hadn't.

"Nothing, nevermind, so who's he?" i asked flicking a thumb at Cheekbone Dude. John glanced at him and chuckled. They looked sort of like best friends. They kind of fit each other with what the other didn't. Like height...and manners.

"He's Sherlock Holmes, haven't you heard of..." I shook my head and he continued with a sly smile.

"Well anyways he's one of my- no, he's my _best_ friend. He's saved my life and well i think you've noticed, but he's not very social." I raised a brow.

"Not very?" He laughed.

"Yes, i guess you're right maybe a lot," he said with a smirk. He pondered something before moving to clean the dishes, talking while he did it.

"He can be an arrogant sod most of the time, but once in a while, if you look hard enough and stay long enough, you can see he can be normal, too." And i believed him. The way he said it, so genuine, i couldn't help feel as if this Sherlock Holmes trusted John enough to reveal his soft side. It made me feel like i could trust him, too.

"Rain is almost gone," i heard Sherlock say from somewhere in the living room. I glanced at the window. It was still pouring. Hard. I opened my mouth to disagree, but i saw John shake his head. I stared in disbelief.

"But it's still pouring cats and dogs out there," i whispered, perhaps too loudly because John looked up abruptly and sighed. _Sherlock_. I turned slowly and met his gaze. Oh, good, he had a shirt on now. A nice, purple buttoned shirt with his sleeves rolled up. It fit his chest perfectly. _Stop it! Look away!Oh. . Look at those eyes..._

"It is pouring water, do check your eyesight..." he looked at me as if waiting for something. For a few seconds, i just looked back blankly. And then it hit me.

"Oh, um...Elizabeth," i mumbled, heat running up my neck. I glanced away, but not before seeing him roll his eyes in what i guessed was frustration. God, I'm such an idiot.

"Look outside now, _Elizabeth_," he said each syllable slowly as if talking to a monkey. I ignored his tone but shivered at the sound of his baritone voice saying my name.

I walked over to the window and pulled back the grey drapes (really, how grim can you get?). True to his word, the rain was receding. I glared at the sky. So he controlled weather now, huh? Turning around, i didn't give him the satisfaction of admitting i was wrong. I stomped (i know, childish) back and sagged heavily onto the couch, my neck lying comfortably in the arm rest, and crossed my arms.

I cleared my throat. "That doesn't change the fact that it _was _pouring cats and dogs outside. And for your information, it's an expression, Mr. Holmes." He narrowed his eyes and i could see John behind him putting a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. Sherlock opened his mouth to retort but was inturrupted by a man coming up the stairs in a beige long-coat with greying hair and worried eyes. Sherlock nodded a greeting. "Lestrade."

"Sherlock. Listen there's been a -"

"Murder. Am i wrong?" Sherlock inturrupted. "Lestrade" sighed before speaking. Guess he's used to being inturrupted.

"No, you are not. Body is at St. Bart's, you might want to check it out. Found dead in his house last night, suspected suicide but-"

"You want me to make sure. John, show your "friend" to the door and meet me at St. Bart's in 20," he said quickly, tugging on a dark blue scarf. He grabbed a black over-coat from the coat hanger, pulling it on on the way to the stairs, and took the stairs two at a time so fast i wondered if he was human. Lestrade turned to me and held out a hand.

"Have a good day, ma'am." I shook his hand and watched as his coat dissappeared down the stairs. Turning to John, i sputtered, pointing at the door. He laughed and grabbed his cardigan.

"That was Detective Inspector Lestrade. Sherlock is a-"

"Detective, right? Only a detective gets visited by police, yes i saw the cruiser outside it's kind of hard to miss with all the lights, with news on dead bodies and murders." He looked surprised and I shrugged.

"I tend to notice stuff like that." John stared wide-eyed before knitting his eyebrows. He smiled. "What are the odds..." i heard him say. We walked to the door and went outside. Now that the rain was gone, it did look like a wonderful day. I smiled and felt the urge to twirl around like a ballerina. My reverie was inturrupted by John clearing his throat.

"Um, i have to go to St. Bart's and well..." he trailed off, scratching the back of his head uncertainly.

"Oh no, it's fine. I understand that you have to be somewhere. You and Sherlock seem like really nice people, forgetting the rude comments, of course" We both laughed. We stood there for a while and i bit my lip.

Should i do it? No, they have other things to worry about...But, this is a great chance to finally have one or maybe two friends in a new country. Come on, Beth, you can do it just ask. I took a deep breath.

"Can i come again?" i asked hopefully. He seemed startled at first but then smiled.

"If you can stand Sherlock's attitude then be my guest." I felt like hugging him, but that would be weird, wouldn't it?

I grinned. "Thank you. And maybe i can come with you, to St. Bart's i mean, ask for an interview. Right now is as good a time as any, right?" he stared, confused.

"What do you mean- Oh!" he said excitedly. I nodded and grinned.

"Your interview, this morning. it was to St. Barts's?"

"Yep," i said popping the "p".

He smiled and hailed a cab. He opened my door and closed it behind me before walking around and getting in himself. Yep, it was manners. "St. bart's," he told the cabbie before turning to me.

"Thank you, gentle man," i told him once we were moving.

"Your welcome..." he trailed off, pretending to look at the sights. I looked out the window and subconsciously tugged on the buttons from my cardigan. Any second now...

"Liz," he finshed quietly and i smiled.


End file.
